


Chia

by AnselaJonla



Series: Prompt fills [43]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, r/writingprompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:41:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23275702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnselaJonla/pseuds/AnselaJonla
Summary: A fic written for a prompt on the r/WritingPrompts subreddit:[WP] There's an illegal puppy ring taking place inside a fast food restaurant. The only clue are a trail of chia seeds scatter throughout the neighborhood
Series: Prompt fills [43]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1097823
Kudos: 1





	Chia

It's been a year since ownership of pets was banned worldwide. A long, difficult year. I tried to hide my baby for as long as possible, but I wasn't the only one, and eventually the enforcement squads went street to street, house to house, searching every nook and cranny for illegal animals.

My beloved Zara was ripped from my arms, and shoved into a tiny little cage in the back of a white van, surrounded by other terrified animals. They held me back as she was driven away. I still wake at night, her howls of terror echoing in my nightmares.

Recently I've heard rumours though. "Follow the seeds," they say. "They have puppies," the whispers claim.

So here I am, eyes to the ground as I walk to work, looking for anything that might be a trail I could follow. I think I _might_ have spotted something. It's not a continuous trail. That makes sense, it would be too obvious after all.

You never realise how much of a lifeline your pets are until they're gone. I know of a few people who managed to keep a hold of their dogs, those whose animals served a vital function to them or their livelihoods, but they're only a tiny fraction of the former numbers of pet owners. One of my colleagues is one of the lucky ones, she's legally blind and was allowed to keep her guide dog. Everyone wants to be rotaed with her, just for the chance to give Dylan a fuss.

Needless to say, the hedonistic labrador is loving the attention.

The seizure had a death toll beyond those who chose to fight to the death to protect their animals. I know three people in my office alone that committed suicide once their pets were gone. In one stroke they lost their therapists, their balancing boards, the only thing keeping them in this world. They struggled on for a while, shadows of their former selves, but it was too difficult.

I know I'm teetering on that edge myself. That's why I _have_ to believe this rumour.

I know I've found the trail now. And I've found where it leads. It ends at a fast food place just a few doors down from my office building. One where I go quite frequently, so it won't look too suspicious if I go there at lunch.

When I go in, I'm faced with a dilemma. I don't actually know, if this is the place, how to get in. I decide to wing it when I get to the counter.

"Hi, erm, do you have any of those chia muffins? I've heard they're quite nice."

The cashier's eyes widen. I think I might have said the right thing, maybe.

"Uh, the chia muffins are sold in our bakery. If you go down the corridor and through the door at the far left, that will take you through to it."

I follow his directions. Hopefully he's not sending me to an _actual_ bakery. The indicated door opens to a staircase that leads downwards. That's a good sign, I hope.

A massive rail of coveralls in many sizes and colours greets me at the bottom of the stairs. A large sign over the locked door instructs me to put one on before I'll be allowed entry. I find one that fits me in a colour I like (dark red) and knock on the door.

It swings open, unlocked remotely. I step in and push it shut behind me.

Now I'm inside I can _hear_ it. The sound of yips and yelps and barks. All noises I never thought I'd hear again. There _are_ puppies in here.

"Welcome to St Francis'. Come in, pick a spot, relax."

The man who spoke is seated on a bench with a puppy in his arms. He's cuddling it with a look of rapture on his face. I look around the room. There's not just puppies here. There are dogs of all ages and breeds.

Then I spot _it_. My heart skips a beat. It's not _her_ , the markings aren't absolutely right, but it's so close that...

I slowly approach the dog resting on the sofa, my hand out stretched to be sniffed. It bypasses that and starts to investigate the rest of me instead. I worm my way around it, and settle onto the sofa, the dog laying across my lap, neck stretched so it can still lick every inch of my face and ears.

Zara did that. She _loved_ ears.

I wrap my arms around the ginger and white Staffie in my lap, and cry.


End file.
